


As those who grow

by booktick



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booktick/pseuds/booktick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tywin Lannister does not cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As those who grow

Disclaier: I own none of this franchise.

A/N: Modern AU.

* * *

Tywin Lannister told himself, even made a promise, that there would not be tears in their relationship. They would marry and have children and they would grow. They would have a great life, that is what Tywin naively told himself. He believed in his own lies and he believed in God, look where that got him. It took the only thing that granted him some peace, gave him rest-away…ripped from his arms and to never return.

He has to choose a plot and he has to spend on money to put his…to put his love into the ground. He has to _pay_ for it. He has to pay with money, with his soul, with his heart. He has to pay and it’s not fair. Life is not fair, he knows that, Tywin was taught that at a very young age. When his father tried to whore Genna away, when his father was too weak to even care what happened to any of them, when Jaime was diagnosed as dyslexic. He learned that life wasn’t fair and it wouldn’t get better.

But Joanna…

Joanna had been different. Joanna was sunlight. Joanna was the air in his lungs-she was his wife and she was taken from him and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. And that killed Tywin, that made him physically ache in his bones and in his chest. He couldn’t count how many times he found himself in the bathroom, on his knees, heaving what was left of his dinner (if he ate dinner) into the toilet. He didn’t want to hurt ever again.

He won’t hold Tyrion.

He refuses. He won’t even look at him.

Jaime asked him earlier if he could hold Tyrion, that maybe his baby brother would stop crying. Because Jaime so often stopped Cersei from crying at school when the other kids picked on her. He hadn’t known what to say to his son so he hadn’t answered. Jaime had shrugged his shoulders and left because father wasn’t saying much of anymore, not after Mommy went away.

Jaime still doesn’t understand, Tywin thinks, that Joanna isn’t coming back. Maybe that’s better, maybe it’s bad. He isn’t sure of what to think about that. His mind is only Joanna and pain, pain and Joanna, a never ending scene in his head.

Tywin heard the baby cry late at night and Cersei tugged at his sleeves and at his pant leg, asking why the baby was so upset. If they could just get rid of it, and he can’t bare to look at his daughter. He doesn’t want to hear these things coming from her, he doesn’t want to hear much of anything anymore. Genna has to lead Cersei away from him, even though Cersei keeps saying how maybe if they gave away Tyrion then Mommy would come back.

He doesn’t admit it but Tywin fell to his knees and cried that night. He cried hard and he cried deeply, into his hands, into the bed sheets. The bed had been undisturbed, Joanna had made it before…before everything. She had said she wanted everything to be perfect when they returned home. And Joanna never came home.

She would never come home.

His Joanna was gone forever and ever. He’d never hold her, never hug her and never get to hear her tell him it would be okay, that she loved him and to be gentle. That would never happen again.

Joanna was gone.

And Tywin Lannister promised himself.

Tywin does not cry. He will not cry again. Never, not even if he was damned and shaken by hands until he blacked out. He would never cry like this again. He would never hurt like this again. There was more to this world than pain and he would rid it away from himself if he had to. Whatever it meant to never hurt like this.

He barely remembered the ride home, how Genna held his hand. His fingers had gone numb by that time. He had stared at something, he feels like but nothing really comes to mind. The seat had hurt his back, or it would have it he had really cared. The lights had flickered on the streets, was it night, he still wasn’t sure. And Genna had told him things, Kevan had maybe rubbed his shoulders as he sat on his bed back home.

He hadn’t realized he was even back from the hospital that night.

Kevan had stayed, offered to watched the children. Children, he had children. He and Joanna. Children. That came to mind after a while though it faded soon after too like everything else but of golden hair and warm smiles. Joanna would have told him to sleep but he hadn’t slept that night. He had stayed awake and sat there all night. He had sat there and he stared at nothing. Tywin had done nothing but sit and breath.

Much like he was currently doing save for laying down as he breathed. He stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, once their bedroom, and rolled the ring around on his finger. It was still cold, no longer warm. There was nothing to warm him anymore. Not like that.

Thoughts flooded his mind after a while, crossing and uncrossing and capturing his attention for a while until he felt dizzy and would think something else entirely.

Tyrion will grow, he will have a chance at life. His son, his second boy and Tywin wants nothing to do with that. He doesn’t want to touch something that was the reason-…A small part of his mind says it’s not, a baby can’t do that. A baby is innocent, and that it’s not his fault. But Tywin did not want to push that way. He did not want to forget or forgive, or love or hate. He did not want to do much of anything. He didn’t even want to eat anymore, he wanted to sleep.

Maybe if he slept, he’d go away too.

And when Tyrion cries late into the night inside the playroom that Joanna had Tywin paint blue and fill with toys.

Tywin Lannsiter does not cry.


End file.
